Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Sand by Hortense Flexner

The sand which will not hold the print of my shoe,
Remembers, none the less,
The birth of stars,
And the sunken lines of sea-devoured continents.
It is the gray hair of earth,
Bleached and wave-beaten,
That has known the passionate rage of waters,
White heat of sun,
And the slow passing of a thousand thousand years.

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